Happy Birthday Fatty!

The birthday party was so fun!

We arrived around 3:30 and stayed past 9. I just loved that evening, so much. Elba's family was so friendly and nice. They didn't all speak English but they all made me feel so welcome.

Mustaches were the theme of the evening and so even our drinking straws had mustaches attached. So hipster over here.

On an unhipster note, "Fatty" (Gordo) is a popular nickname and what the birthday boy's family calls him. Not just as a joke. Really, they call him Fatty. He answers to it. And refers to himself as Fatty, as in "This is Fatty."

We Americans are still boggled by it.

My Fingers Are In A Lime

and this is not the strangest occurrence of the weekend.

(If you look closely, you can see the newly-minted scar on my wrist from making pancakes last week.)

Today was a big day on our social calendar. My roommate, Candra, and I were invited to a birthday party!

Candra was asked to bring guacamole.
I hate guacamole (because I hate avocados). However, I wanted to make myself useful since Candra was doing all the work, so I offered to chop garlic-- something I do enjoy doing.

I ended up having to chop an entire garlic. By the end of it, my fingers hard started smarting. I couldn't figure out what was going on. In my illustrious career of garlic chopping, I had never experienced this before. I turned to google-- but the only home remedy I had available was honey. No help-- my fingers only turned a ten shades more red. In desperation, I read on one site that lime juice counteracted the alkaline of garlic... and sure enough, it was sublime!

heh heh heh.

Well, we're off to the party now!

Au revoir!

blah blah blah

I mean, what do you actually want to know?

Do you want to hear about how the principal decided to observe my class with 8th grade?

And about his theory that the reason the students were acting out was because I was taking too much time explaining grammar concepts that they already knew?

Even though every time I tried to move forward they insisted they "didn't get it?"

And I was following the book?

But he waited this long to tell me that they already knew everything?

Or how about stories of how naughty they are?

How every time I turn to write something on the board they clap and sing "HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOUUUU" at the top of their lungs, but no matter how fast I whip around I can't catch whoever it was?

And that when I decided to assign everyone essays as punishment (because likely 13 out of the 15 students were involved), the students rebelled and said it wasn't fair and then the principal agreed it wasn't fair, so as per usual, consequences are never realized?

That one student burst out in frustration while I was trying to quiet the entire class, "MISS! I PAY YOU TO TEACH ME, NOW TEACH!"

And that nothing happened to him?

Or that another student told me point blank "I want to kill you"-- and nothing happened to him either?

Or that three students had terrible attitude with me and slammed their books down and refused to follow instructions-- but when I went to the office they said it was "too late" in the day to give demerits, so now, two days later, they still have not given me the demerits?

Or that the students claim my problem is that I am "not Honduran"?

Nope.

I am not.

I am me. And I am frustrated. But I am looking forward to Thanksgiving!

Half day of school on Friday, no school on Monday and only half a day on Wednesday (with Thanksgiving on Thursday) = one nice looooong weekend!!! Only 4.5 days of teaching! AND TOMORROW IS PAYDAY!

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hey baby

I don't know what it's like to be a minority in the USA, but I sure know how uncomfortable it is to be a minority in Honduras.

Stares galore.

I like attention. I like to be noticed when I walk in a room. But I do not like to be the center of attention for long-- and living in Honduras, I am one big magnet for eyes.

I saw a man who was albino at a mall in the capital city. We exchanged brief glances and I think he was more surprised to see me than the other way around.

I don't know how to explain how draining, unnerving and uncomfortable it is to be watched everywhere you go. Being introverted doesn't help ease my agitation. I can't walk around the corner to buy a candy bar without hearing whistles and guttural voices calling out "Hey baby" to my backside. I never liked catcalls in the States, but given the violent nature of life here, it makes me even more uneasy to receive so much attention. It is never flattering to be viewed as a sex object. I don't think men anywhere understand this, but certainly not in Honduras.

I'm really not trying to be dramatic. Staying cooped up in my apartment is no life at all, and so of course I do walk around outside. I always leave the apartment eager to enjoy the fresh air, but soon the reality will set in and I begin to walk a little faster, wanting nothing more than to return again.

Walking with the other girls puts me at ease, but this is not a regular occurrence. And so... out I go.

the teddy bear

I've decided something. 

The point of a blog is to blog. 

I need to censor less. 

And write more. 

And maybe what I'm saying is boring, or too wordy (quite likely)-- but, if nothing else, I'd like a written record of my stay here. 

So, the following is actually cut and pasted from an e-mail to my mom-- but still worth sharing here. Perhaps. 




I asked Mr. R today if Elias was actually slow or if he was just acting that way. Mr. R burst out laughing and feigned shock that I was calling a student stupid. Then he said that his parents asked the same question. Elias' dad had sat in his office and said that he was trying to be responsible for his son and had even punished him but his son didn't seem to learn. Someone described him as a "teddy bear" and that seems somewhat of a good description-- when he is not driving me mad with his questions. I will say something like, "Class, please take out your language notebooks." After a few moments I will look over and see Elias has not moved. "Elias, please take out your language notebook." He will nod his head and I'll turn somewhere else, only to look back and see that he hasn't made any effort to get out his notebook. So I will chew him out and he'll ask, "Miss, do we take out our workbooks or notebooks?" This is not even a good example. I can't recall the situation, just my intense annoyance at his questions. With some students (Jose Isaac!) I can tell that they are acting stupid to be annoying-- but with Elias I can't! I would just assume it is that he's slow, except sometimes it will seem like he's doing it on purpose-- like whistling several minutes after I've told the entire class not to. 

Anyway, the new teacher from Nashville (TNTN... I can't remember her actual name) mentioned that it might be a learning disability and I think she's right. Here, they don't test for those things-- and I think maybe not even so much of a learning disability as an actually disability. Today really softened my heart towards him... 

Yesterday I had kicked him and another student, Raul, out of class. Elias had been roughhousing with Raul and Raul got mad and squirted juice at him but it landed all over the floor. (Juice is usually sold in plastic baggies so this was more like a juice missile!) This happened as I was entering the class for the first time and I was certainly not having a food fight. So right away I sent both down to the principal's office. Neither of them are real troublemakers but I just couldn't believe or tolerate Raul's reaction. They had to pick up trash around the school while the rest of the class took a quiz (by the way, a useful punishment! The first time I've seen this. I would also like to send the kids who've given me major attitude to clean toilets! Oh man. Would that ever cure them!) So they missed the quiz. I told them they could take it during lunch today. (Recess is when most kids eat and lunch is when they play soccer. I've also noticed I'm a lot hungrier in the mornings and less so in the afternoon... probably has something to do with getting up at 5:30 most mornings!) They were fine with this yesterday, but today kept pestering me to let them take it during class. (I have two classes with them in the morning.) I asked Mr. R and he said to stand firm and give it to them during lunch. So I told them during lunch it would be-- and if they didn't find me, they would get a 0. Well Raul was right outside my last class before lunch, ready to take the quiz. He seems to take his grades seriously and like I said is not a major troublemaker. He got 100%-- it was a super easy quiz (as all of mine have been). I went to the cafeteria to get some food after that and made eye contact with Elias, but he made no effort to talk to me. I was hungry and in no mood to track him down... I decided it was his choice to not take the quiz and I was going to let him live with it. He had pestered me all that morning to take the quiz at another time-- how could he "forget" so quickly?!

Except I think he really did forget. At the end of the day, I went back to the 8th grade classroom to record Raul's grade. 8th grade still has weekly reports sent home to the parents and so I needed to write down Raul's grade so he could show his parents. While their I met Elias and asked him for his report and told him he was getting a 0. "What?! Miss, Whyyyyyy???" He was very upset about it. "Elias, I told you that if you didn't come find me at lunch to retake the quiz, that you would get a 0. I saw you in the cafeteria." "But Miss, I didn't see you!" "Yes you did, Elias." "No! Miss! I didn't see you!" (I really do believe him now, I wish I had then! Not sure if I did at the time but I think he might just have been spacey...) "Elias, I'm sorry. This is just one grade. Hopefully you'll do better next time." Finally he relinquished his grade sheet and I went about looking for a red pen to record the 0 (grades are color-coded and failing grades are marked in red). Suddenly I became aware that there was sniffling. I looked up, and Elias was sobbing. My heart melted. I went over and half-hugged him/ rubbed his back. He sort of stood there, half letting me hug him, half turning toward the board. "Elias, it's ok. It's just one quiz. If you study hard for the next one, you'll do fine." "No, Miss... my father will kill me." "No, he won't, Elias." Elias just nodded his head in protest and continued crying. I was recalling my conversation with Mr. R earlier about his father and "punishing" Elias and suddenly it all seemed clearer... Elias really wasn't being defiant... he really was just a slow teddy bear. So I crossed out the 0 and wrote "I made a mistake. Please have Elias study for his quiz on Monday." (in English... I am assuming his parents only speak Spanish) and showed Elias what I had done. He nodded his head and tried to control his crying. I would have liked to stay and talk with him some more but both our buses were leaving and I barely got on as it pulled away. 

Anyway, I think I did the right thing. I know it is important to be consistent, but I also think it's important to have compassion/ show grace. And Elias, if he really is slow, deserves a lot of it-- I think the kids like to get him in trouble a lot and he doesn't realize it. I also didn't want to be responsible for any of his punishments-- I don't think beatings are rare here and I sure don't think he deserves one. Even getting sent to the principal yesterday wasn't directly his fault. (Raul was also in tears as we marched down to the office yesterday.) 

PLEASE LEAVE ME FEEDBACK!

I know it seems like such a little thing, but honestly, it means so much to me to know that others are reading this blog. Please let me know you've been here!

HOMEWARD BOUND

Well, in December at least.

It is so premature to be excited about returning home for Christmas, but I am. So. Very. Excited.

Longing to be with my family and people that "get" me.

One of the most difficult things about living in Honduras is that I came completely alone, but another difficulty became the people I'm surrounded by. I wonder what it would have been like if I had not met or lived with the other two Americans. Sometimes I wonder if I would have been happier.

For the most part, I am happy. And these Americans are not bad people (though I consider some of their opinions harmful)-- it just so happens that they are polar opposites from me in many ways, and developing meaningful friendships or mutual understandings has proved difficult.

I'm trying to be as honest as I can without crossing the line into negativity. I hope if they read this some day that they are not upset. I'm sure they have had the same difficulties relating to me. And when you are surrounded by someone twenty-four hours a day, you are bound to find certain aspects of that person like sandpaper.

Though when you are the target of the sandpaper, things start to become suffocating.

This is not forever. This is for only 8 months. Women endure pregnancy for longer. I will just think of this as my Patience Baby, growing deep inside me.